Satin Princess(17)

C: I was comfortable with you from the first moment we met. There’s two minutes between Jessa’s previous message and this response. I can picture him languishing over whether to send it or not. Chewing his nails, tapping his heels, agonizing again and again.

J: That was different.

C: How?

J: We’re best friends.

Chris’s final text that day doesn’t arrive until almost nineteen minutes later. You’re right.

I’m so engrossed in my deep dive into Jessa’s relationship with Chris that I don’t notice the attendant reappear.

“Here’s your whiskey, sir,” she says. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No.”

“A blanket? A hand towel? Some snacks?”

“Just some peace and quiet,” I say in a tone that suggests she’s worn out her welcome.

Her face drops and she nods, but she heads to the back of the plane dutifully. and I turn my attention back to Chris’s phone.

I scroll up a little to the beginning of a conversation that was started on December 18th by Chris. I was thinking, if you want some company this Christmas, I could come with you to your parents place. Act as a buffer. What do you think?

J: Aw Chris, that’s an awesome offer. But I’m not going to be going to their place alone this Christmas.

C: No?

J: I’m taking Dane. I want to introduce him to them.

C: That’s just… just… I’m surprised. It’s so soon.

J: We’ve been together six months. And it’s serious.

C: Really?

J: Yes, why are you being weird?

C: I’m not.

J: Do you not like Dane?

C: He’s fine.

J: So that’s a no.

C: I just think he can be a little full of himself sometimes.

J: He’s just being funny.

C: I doubt that very much.

J: Really, Chris? Can you make an effort with this one? I like him.

C: Okay.

J: Gee, thanks for the enthusiasm.

I skim down for a while.

J: So that’s it? You’re not going to talk to me?

Chris’s reply text comes a full day later. He’s wrong for you, Jessa. I won’t apologize for being honest. I think it’s a mistake that you accepted his proposal. The guy is a douchebag.

J: You’re being a douchebag right now.

C: I’m being your friend. I’m trying to stop you from making a horrible mistake with your life.

J: That’s right, Chris. It's MY life. My freaking life. So how about you let me live it as I see fit?

C: Fine. Just don’t ask me to be a part of it then.

J: You can’t be serious.

C: And yet here we are.

J: Why are you doing this?

C: Because I love you. It's obvious to me what this means. But it's not obvious to Jessa.

J: And I love you. You’re my best friend, Chris. I want you to be my best man.

C: That’s not a thing.

J: It’s my wedding day. It’ll be a thing if I decide to make it a thing.

C: I’m not gonna be your best man, Jess.

J: Can’t you just support me?

C: Not when I know this is gonna end badly.

J: Guess this conversation is over then.

C: Guess it is.

After that, there’s months and months of silence. The next text comes about three months later, from Jessa. It’s weird not talking to you. I miss you. Can we talk?

Are you still getting married?

Yes.

Then there’s nothing to say.

Two days later, Chris writes another text. For the record, I miss you too.

I close the conversation thread and tuck the phone away. It’s a strange feeling, to be threatened by someone else’s relationship with Jessa. I’ve never experienced anything remotely similar before.

Then again, I’ve never cared this much about a woman before.

I sip my whiskey, taking comfort in the dull burn in my tongue and throat. At this point, I’ll take anything that gets my mind off my woman, my baby, our future.

When my phone rings, I’m tempted to ignore it. I only pick up because it’s Lev. “Yeah?”

“Where the fuck are you?” he demands. “Dimitri told me you got on a jet?”

“I did.”

“I thought you were going to go see her friend?”

“I did.”

“What happened from there?”

“I started to smell a rat.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that shit is going down. I need to get to Jessa right now.”

“What did the friend say?”

“Not a ton. But I’m not surprised. He doesn’t trust me.”

“So he’s still alive?” he asks dubiously.

“Of course he’s still alive. I wasn’t planning on killing him.”

Though based on some of the text messages I read off his phone, I could amend that decision.

“I assume he told you where Jessa is?” asks Lev.

I snort. “No, he’s the loyal type.”

“I’m confused why he's still alive then."

“I let him live, but I took his phone.”

“You and Jessa deserve each other. Two kleptomaniacs. Remind me to lock my phone up when you’re around.”